I obeyed my instincts, and fled out of the room as I heard that she was stirring behind the screen. And I had not been mistaken in the guess I made. She came out a few minutes later, leaning on Carson’s arm, leaning heavily, with her head trembling like that of a palsied person; but her eyes full of that dreadful self-possession, knowledge and resistance. I trembled, too, as I stood aside to let her pass. She did not say anything, though she stared hard at me. The maid, though she did her best to make up her usual face when she saw me there, was evidently overpowered with anxiety and distress.
There was, then, one other individual who knew that secret—one creature who loved that dreadful old woman, and in whom she trusted. I could not help standing still to look after them as they went upstairs. Carson was very little younger than her mistress. She had a naturally anxious look, as well she might if she had been for years the depository of this secret. I could not help picturing their life to myself as they went upstairs: the innocent woman troubled and tearful, the guilty woman calm and immovable, but for that trembling of her frame which even her remorseless will was not strong enough to subdue. I could understand better now how she kept alive, and could preserve that frightful stillness of hers. Upstairs, in their own apartments, no doubt another life went on; a life of recollections and schemes which no one knew of, a life palpitating full of those past years of which Miss Mortimer gave no sign. That was how she kept herself alive. I could not do anything but stand still, watching them, as they went slowly up to that retirement, where the mask could be laid off and the veil drawn. When they were out of sight, I strayed into the great vacant drawing-room, unable to withdraw my thoughts from this strange pair. “I must deny, deny, deny!” That was the position she had taken. Could any one in existence—could Luigi, a sensitive and high-minded young man as he seemed to be—seek motherly love from such a woman as this? Motherly love! it was dreadful even in thought to apply such words to anything that could come from her. Shame only, shame to both. What motive could he have to go on seeking her? for Nature had evidently no place in her heart of stone.
Chapter X.
“BUT, dear, dear, where’s Sarah?” cried Aunt Milly, when some time later she came into the room.
I felt almost as guilty as if I had suddenly got some share in Miss Mortimer’s secret. “She was going upstairs when I came in,” said I; but I could not find it in my heart to say what new accident had done this.
Aunt Milly looked at her chair and her footstool, and the work-basket she had left behind, as if she might possibly ascertain something from them. “My dear, it will be well to avoid the strangers to-night,” she said, nodding her head, as if this conclusion was, on the whole, not unsatisfactory; “and, indeed, Milly, though you may think it strange of me to say so, I am not sorry; for Miss Kate, I am afraid, would be very likely to mention something about that poor young man, whoever he may be!” said Aunt Milly, with a sigh. “Dear, dear, to think what troubles people make, both for themselves and others, that might be avoided by a little openness. Why couldn’t he have told me, my dear? If he has claims, I’d have seen him satisfied to the very last farthing, Milly! and if he hasn’t claims, why should he persecute Sarah and me?”
“But it might be something he couldn’t tell,” said I, rashly.
“Something he couldn’t tell? What do you mean, child? What sort of a connection could he have with our family that he couldn’t tell?” cried Miss Milly. “I see what you mean. He might be a natural son. Harry has put that into your head, now, for I am sure you never could have thought of it of yourself. Milly, Milly, it’s dreadful to say, but I’d be more thankful than I can tell you, to know that he was. I shouldn’t forget he was my father’s son all the same; he should be amply provided for—amply, my dear; ah, but it’s far too good news to be true; and, besides, what would Sarah care for him, if he were illegitimate? It could not hurt us in the least. Nothing, but what would be an injury to us, can explain Sarah’s looks. Don’t let us think of it any more, Milly. Come and show me, dear, what you’re going to wear to-night. I should like you to look pretty, though they are all old people; for they’re old friends as well. Come upstairs with me, and show me what you are to have on.”
I went, not without some trepidation, for I did not know what Aunt Milly would say when she knew I had nothing but white muslin. She did shake her head when she saw it spread out ready to put on. She even faltered forth some half questions as to what I had in my wardrobe, whether I had not a nice——; but there dear Aunt Milly stopped. She would not hurt my feelings whatever I might wear; and I don’t deny I felt a little mortified myself to see it laid out like a little girl’s best frock. However, I am thankful to say Harry never had an idea that it was not the very best thing I could wear.
“There are some lace flounces,” said Aunt Milly, half to herself, eyeing the poor white frock over again, “that might brighten it up a little;” then she turned round suddenly and kissed me by way of apology. “My dear, don’t be affronted, I’m sure you will look very pretty in it;—only I should have preferred, just for this one night,—but, to be sure, you never thought of bringing out all your things for such a short visit, and us such quiet people. Never mind, Milly dear, it will look very nice, I am sure. I have a very pretty scarf you shall wear thrown over it; it may not be quite in the fashion; but fine lace never goes out of fashion, you know. I mean to give it you anyhow; and here’s a little jewel-box, with some ornaments in it; I used to wear them myself when I was a girl, and I had them reset just for a little remembrance of this visit. Put them on, for my sake, to-night; and remember, dear, that what we’ve been talking about so much these few days is a family secret. If anybody should say anything that seems to touch on it, or should even mention Mr. Luigi’s name, don’t look as if you were conscious of anything. It may come to nothing, you know. I am very glad you like them, my dear. I am quite pleased I thought of it. But recollect, Milly, my love, to be on your guard.”